Sparring: An Art of Seduction
by Hsjajjsjsnwhwkkwkwnsn
Summary: In order to get better the trainee must have a good opponent. When Mikasa ends up with Levi; activates are a little more scandalous.


**Sparring : An Art of Seduction**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Attack on Titan**

_"Spare me a lecture, why don't you." Mikasa snapped with a snide comment, almost certain there_ _was a __slight smirk curled up on the corner of the Corporal's lips. She didn't need his rant about everything she did wrong. She wasn't expecting him to reply, but obviously, he wouldn't give up on the opportunity._

_"It's my turn, Ackerman."_

* * *

Sparring with Levi required her to actually break a sweat and so it became an unspoken daily routine of endless ass kicking. That particular day in general, there was a heat wave when things began to get 'frisky'. Colleagues were disposing of uniform layers in an attempt to beat the heat and murmurs rustled in the wind as humanity's strongest rolled out into the burning sun, fully dressed in their Scout Regiment apparel for another day of training.

"Ready?" The girl in the red scarf asked. He nodded and positioned himself in a fighting stance.

Swiftly stepping forward, Mikasa's leg swung for the Corporal's head. He quickly ducked and locked her calf behind his back; twisting it to push her off balance. She stumbled away, swearing at herself to stay more alert. Blocking the hand jives to her stomach with the sides of her arms; she scooped her foot under his and knocked him to the ground. Growling at her, Levi pulled her down with him, flipping her over, and straddling her waist. His boot planted her hand to the dirt while her other was trapped under her spine. He leaned in very close to the girl's face, his arm pushing her neck back. His thin but otherwise soft lips, momentarily brushed over hers, only to quickly dart away, trailing soft kisses everywhere, except where she wanted them. Mikasa's heart pounded loudly in her ears as his touch sent butterflies throughout her entire body. Wriggling her hand free from beneath her, she grasped his throat and shoved him off her. She quickly got to her feet, and soon they stood face to face.

"So you're a tease?" Mikasa stated, getting ready for what the audience called 'round two'.

They were always oblivious to the fact that they had spectators, let alone that their friends were gambling food rations on them. The partners in battle seemed to only notice one another and the motto of 'taking down their opponent with all tactics necessary'. For their audience, it was like looking into a one-way bubble; were the outside was transparent.

So you want to play dirty? I'll play dirty; Mikasa mischievous glance said.

A devilish grin spread across her face. Before he could comprehend what was happening, she lunged forward pouncing on him. Long legs wrapped around his torso and feminine hands slid over his shoulders; pushing off his tan jacket. She grabbed his collar, ripped opened his white shirt, and pried away his scarf. Mikasa nibbled on his neck, blood pooling on the surface. Her lingering, seductive fingers brushed across his skin, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake. The Corporal's mind blurred with dancing colors and a soft moan escaped his lips. Hush voices and gasps flooded between their fellow comrades as Mikasa hopped of him, turned on her heels and walked away, leaving behind a bright red hickey on his neck.

"Ackerman, I'm not done yet." Levi said roughly with his sensuous French accent, that only her and possibly a few others could understand, leaving the rest out in the blue.

He stretched his hand, and reached for her jacket, causing her to spin around, until she faced him. Panicking, she clenched her hand and threw a punch that was stopped by his palm. Like spiders crawling over skin; his fingers wrapped around her clenched fist. Mikasa could tell he was enjoying himself far too much; a mood that wasn't uncommon for him, except that it never surfaced in public.

Of course, only she would know that. Somehow it occurred to her that her blouse had been discarded. The only thing covering her bosom was the wrapping she had over her bust. Her body was firmly pressed against his. It wasn't the slightest bit strange at their lack of modesty, for most of the girls practiced wearing tight chest bindings, while the guys flaunted off there toned abs. And it was quite uncommon or unheard of for the Corporal and the girl-worth-a-hundred-soldiers to appear in such a manner.

"You, chibi, sexist, pocket size, son of a bitch-" Mikasa went on in a furious rant, as she pathetically tried to hit his shoulders. How had she let herself be downgraded like that, the young Oriental pondered. But, she knew how it started.

* * *

_"You'll never get better like this, Brat." The Corporal spat, her eyes followed his gaze, as the skimmed across the heap of soldiers she had attacked earlier; beating them to a bloody pulp._

_As always they would limp, stumble or crawl away, faces plastered with aggravation, while trying to keep a hold of their dignity. Ackerman's fighting victims – or better yet, test dummies – reported that having their guts beaten out of them was a slap in the face compared to waking up to the aftermath of settled bruises the next morning. It was an automatic sentence to feel like shit. Even though, it didn't stop them from competing against her, in hopes they'd get a lucky swing at her and win. Once they were done with their cocky, adrenalin rush, the cycle started over again with the walk of shame, aching muscles and another volunteer. Imbeciles never learn._

_He began to rant off everything she was doing wrong, only to be cut off by one of her snide comments, in which Levi thought would be perfect timing to throw one back._

* * *

"Spare me a lecture why don't you." Levi smirked.

She leaned in closer, the ginger scent of his hair made her drowsy. She began to wonder how that memory ended and what witty thing he said next. In the moment that followed, more eyes than accustomed where on her; on Mikasa. It wasn't that Levi and Mikasa lost more clothing while fighting than they did in particular, It wasn't the fact that they were literally on each other's faces to point of questioning how they were still breathing. It was the worlds that fell out of her mouth, like they were said to each other every day as a pawn in a sexually game of warfare.

"It's my turn Ackerman."


End file.
